


12. Dead Wrong

by ayas3ri



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, F/M, Female Reader, Love at First Sight, Misunderstandings, POV Third Person, just fluff, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayas3ri/pseuds/ayas3ri
Summary: Connor works at a bakery alongside his flirtatious colleague, Ezio. There, he meets the most beautiful girl in his life: you. And he might think there is something mutual between you two.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor & Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/You
Series: 100 Themes Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745314
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	12. Dead Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Connor is my favorite assassin in the game, but I never showed him much love. :( I just wanted to write for a shy Connor who is cutely awkward when in love; hope I got it right.

“There she is again!” a not-so-subtle squeak escapes the gentle giant as he panics. 

Ezio—his Italian coworker—rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother to lift his gaze from the dough he was kneading. Connor, having dropped the rag from his hands when his stare landed on a familiar female figure, recomposes himself by grabbing his partner’s shoulder. The Italian does not appreciate being interrupted and shaken like a tree; he pulls a face, hands sticky as he throws them in the air. Connor releases him when Ezio starts attacking his face with dough in an attempt to make him go away. 

“Oh, she’s staring…” Connor mutters, wringing his hands nervously.

In this situation, he couldn’t focus on work anymore. Luckily for him, it was almost the end of his shift and the boss wasn’t around to yell at him for doing something else besides cleaning. He was almost ready anyway. Today, he hurried with all of his tasks just so he can be ready for _the encounter._

The woman behind the glass outside looks inside, deep in thought. She seems to be looking for something—and Connor has a very good idea that she wasn’t here to window shop for sweets. 

She was here to shop for _him._

He squeaks in surprise when her eyes make eye contact with him and she smiles affectionately. His heart leaps, pulse quickening—and he fights hard to control his blush. He wants to hide but at the same time, he wants her to see him, to give her a signal. 

What he was most bitter about was his reaction; he acted ridiculous when it came to having crushes. 

The Italian notices and stops what he’s doing. “ _Amico_ , what’s wrong with you?” Ezio finally sighs, knowing that the giant boy won’t stop fidgeting until someone talks to him. 

And it was understandable—Ezio _is_ the Cassanova here. He pulls all the moves to capture beautiful girls’ hearts, so it was logical that his junior will come to him for advice. And who was her to refuse him when he had love troubles? 

Connor turns to him, pointing at the girl outside. “She’s back! Every day, at the same hour, she passes the shop.” 

Ezio glances at her while washing his hands. “She’s pretty. You made a good choice, Connor.” This was high praise coming from the older man. “Why don’t you go talk to her?” 

“I—” he stops, gulping. “Well, that’s—that’s not the problem.” The Italian man waits for Connor to continue. “She’s the one that should approach me!” 

Ezio’s eyebrow shoots upwards, “In what universe?” 

Crossing his arms defensively, Connor explains, “She’s the one that comes in and—and _eyes_ me as if I am a piece of candy.” 

Ezio scoffs, “Do you mind it?” 

Connor’s cheeks color, averting his gaze. “No,” he mutters. 

“Maybe she’s shy.” 

“I am the shy one here,” Connor plays with his apron, looking over the colorful sweets in the window. “Man, she’s so beautiful…” 

The girl is still there, staring at a specific point, still thinking if she should take action or not. In this moment, Connor wishes she’d just be courageous enough to take her shot and enter the bakery. He’s here waiting; surely she could see how interested he was. There was no way she didn’t pick up the signs. He just wished she’d come inside, buy something, and he’ll take it from there. He knew what to say, something along the lines of: ‘You come here often, cutie?’

He mentally cringed; Ezio was rubbing off on him in the wrong way. It worked for the Italian, but it surely didn’t suit Connor. Ezio was charming while the other man was just awkward. Maybe what the kids would call _‘cringe’._ His mother always said he was a sweetheart and that that’s going to make the girls flocking to him.

Sometimes he thinks that his mother was a good liar. Or he was just horribly oblivious. 

Meanwhile, the Italian was assessing the situation with an expert eye, gazing from the boy to the girl. And then—it all clicked. What was going on was just a big misunderstanding. It didn’t make it any less funny—that’s why he started to chuckle. Connor looked at him, slightly annoyed that he wasn’t taking him seriously enough. He knew he was being ridiculous, but still—

When Ezio started laughing, it was even worse. 

“What is it?” he finally asks, huffing indignantly. 

“This is precious!” the Italian continues to guffaw at Connor’s predicament, getting louder and louder. “You are **dead wrong** , my friend.” Ezio pats the baker on the shoulders, making him more and more annoyed. 

Suddenly, Connor pushes him away, growling, “Alright, alright, you made your point.” Ezio wipes a few tears off the corner of his eyes, then struggles to catch his breath. “Now tell me, why am I wrong?” 

“You do realize—” another bout of chuckles, fueling Connor’s impatience. “—that you can’t see inside, right?”

Connor blinked, taking a few seconds to process this information. 

“The windows—you can only see the displays. Not inside.” 

“...”

Connor’s mouth opened wide as it finally clicked. 

“No way.” 

His face reddened like a tomato and he couldn’t help but cover his ashamed face with his hands. 

“Do you get it now?” 

“Why did you let me make a fool of myself?” 

“I just realized, my friend.” Ezio put a hand on his colleague’s shoulder, reassuringly. “Look at it this way: at least she doesn’t know.”

Connor groaned, wanting to just melt on the spot and vanish. How could he be such a fool? It was so obvious; the owner even explained that to him on his first day. But did he pay attention? No—he was probably too excited he got the job to actually listen. That was Connor for you; always thinking ahead and wanting to become a chef as soon as possible. His mother needed the money, and he wanted to make her proud. 

This encounter between him and the girl has been imaginary. Connor dived into this delusion head-first and now he was suffering the consequences. He got a crush—just like that—and it proved to be useless. 

A wave of dejection hit him. The only solution is to go to her by himself. Like Ezio suggested in the first place. 

“Cheer up!” Ezio tried again—but Connor only wanted to go home and drown in some chips. _A few more minutes and he’ll go back home._ The entrance bell suddenly chimed, but Connor was too down to answer. Ezio sympathized and took over. “Hello and welcome to— _Oh_ .” The Italian man stopped and looked at the person he was serving: _the one and only_ **_her._ **

“ _Ciao, bella._ ” 

He knew she was off-limits, so he nudged Connor in the ribs to catch his attention. Connor still didn’t lift his head, but sighed. “Can you take—” 

“My coworker, _CONNOR_ , here will take care of you, I have to go into the back room for a second!” Before Connor could stop him and figure out the words, Ezio was gone out the back. The boy, annoyed and sad at the same time, knew he had no choice but to serve. 

_What the hell?_

He stood at the counter, finally lifting his gaze to greet the customer. 

“How may I—” he stopped, gasping. He couldn’t believe his luck; one minute he was in the pits of despair, the other on the heights of happiness. But he recovers quickly when he sees her shy smile, eyes glittering, and cheeks red. She was toying with a strand of her hair, twirling it between her fingers. Was she as shy as he was? Oh Lord, was he actually right? Did she come here to see him? 

Connor clears his throat, tries to make this work, “How may I help you?” 

“Well, uhh, can I have a piece of that cake?” she points to the display, at the blue and white cake that was a hit with their shop. 

“You want the cake.” Connor can’t help himself; it slips out before he could control it, only making her cock her head to the side, confused. “Of course, right away.” The big huggable boy makes himself busy, taking out a box and cutting a generous size of the cake the beautiful girl wanted. Her eyes were following his movements with interest and, even if it made him nervous, he did his best to make it look as pretty as her. He even topped the box with a red ribbon; if Connor had Ezio’s level of flirtatiousness, he’d shove a card with his number underneath. 

But he wasn’t that smooth. All he could do was pine for her and wait for a miracle.

“That would be 7$,” he tells her and she hands him her card. “Alright.” He processes the payment and hands her card back; that’s when he notices a business card hidden underneath. His heart seizes and he blushes to his ears as he sees a name and a phone number written on it. NO WAY! Connor glances at her and sees her smiling brightly.

The only words she says to him as he hands her the cake box in a haze are these: “I’ll be waiting.” 

And then, before Connor can say anything to her back, she’s gone, probably embarrassed. He’s standing there dumbfounded, staring at the card and at the name etched on it in beautiful calligraphy. Damn, even her name was pleasant. He repeats it under his breath, like a mantra. Will he have the courage to call her and ask her out on a date? Maybe it was a prank or she was standing in for another person. 

He shakes his head; overthinking was not going to do any good. 

“So, _amico_ , how did it go?” Ezio comes from behind as if he didn’t just ditch his friend. He peers past his shoulder at the card in his hand and lets out a whistle. “Nice job! You’d better call her.” 

Connor turned to look at him and, with a deadpan expression, said: “I want you to teach me everything you know about dates.” 

Ezio’s grin was huge and mischievous.

“With pleasure.”


End file.
